Black House
by SummerSiren
Summary: Sirius Black takes custody of Harry after his parents' demise and raises him with the help of his close friend Remus Lupin and occasional assistance from the formidable Molly Weasley. With two sometimes dog-shaped and dangerous father figures, Harry shouldn't have anything to worry about as he begins his time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...right?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes:** I am looking for alpha/beta readers to help me catch mistakes and to correct me if I create some gaping plot holes so if anyone is interested, please PM me! I'd love to get some feedback on the next chapters before they go public!

Some quick story notes: while this is not a new concept, I hope to tackle it in a slightly new way. This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction. I've written fanfiction for years but never for HP. I think the size and passion of the fandom has kind of kept me from dipping my toes in. I've been on a long break from writing but recently I was listening to the HP books on Audible and thought I'd like to start again, completely fresh and based on a series that I have loved for so many, many years.

 **Pairings will include** : Eventual Wolfstar, eventual Dramoine, mentions of Linny, Hinny, Jily, also mentions of Sirius' unrequited love for James in their Hogwarts years.

One last note: I appreciate constructive criticism, it's much appreciated when plot holes are pointed out, and I ADORE hearing reader's thoughts about the chapters as they get posted (because feedback is writer fuel for sure), but if you send me hate because I'm writing your NOTP, it's going to get ignored. I simply will not respond to hateful PMs or reviews, so I hope you will find a story you enjoy better instead.

Thanks for bearing with me! Please enjoy!

* * *

 **Black House  
Chapter One**

It was too quiet. Far too quiet. And it smelled wrong. The normal scents were there: laundry detergent and baked goods, but they were nearly overpowered by something else. Ozone, brick dust, a dirty diaper. Sirius Black landed his flying motorcycle (how Lily had teased him about it just a couple of weeks ago, before telling James 'not to even think about it,' now that he was a father) and stared at the ruined second floor of the house that had been his best friends' last refuge. His heart was a stone scraping its way down to the pit of his stomach, his chest felt icy and empty. Everything in him urged him to turn away now, before he saw things he couldn't ever unsee. But he had to know for sure. This was his failure, his fatal mistake, and now it was time to pay the price for it.

He forced himself to step though the front door, left ajar in someone's wake as they rushed to get inside. His fists were already clenched as his eyes swept over the family room and then off to the kitchen. Something frantic whistled through the cavity in his chest; apart from the damage upstairs, it all looked so _normal._ Maybe the Potters had escaped after all, maybe they were hiding somewhere—

A baby's wail cut through this thought, and that last thread of hope was snatched out of his grasp. They'd never have left Harry. Not James and especially not Lily. But Harry! Harry was still alive somewhere!

His joy at this thought was brutally severed a second later when he saw the body. James' body, one arm flung out. A wand was just a few inches from the outstretched hand, but James' glasses had been broken in the fall. His hair was still tousled, but he was lying so still. James had never been so still in his whole life.

There was a low rumbling: a growling, gravelly moan—it was him, it was coming from his own throat and it was painful but he couldn't stop it. He closed his eyes but the image of James was still visible, still lying on the ground as though frozen there.

He had to walk around the body ( _forgive me, James, forgive me for leaving you like this but Harry…)_ to get up the stairs. It was cold up here, and now under the baby's crying he could hear another voice crooning softly. Singing a lullaby in a gruff, tuneless undertone.

Sirius stopped, staring at the open doorway that led to Harry's ruined nursery. Hagrid was there with Harry, and that was good, very good. But Lily was in there as well. He didn't know if he could move forward. His feet felt as though they'd been encased in cement, and after glimpsing James…

Another wail from his godson broke through his panicked grief. Harry had no one else now, no one but him. He had to go in there, he had to face that little boy and make sure that he would be brought up safe. He wasn't sure if Voldemort was truly gone, but even if he was there were Death Eaters still out there, and some of them were just as mad as their master. Worse, perhaps—he thought of his own cousin with a shudder. He shifted one foot in front of the other, moving as though underwater but moving nevertheless. It seemed to take a long time to reach the nursery door, but at last he did, grasping at the doorjamb for support as he finally laid eyes on his howling godson.

There was blood trickling from Harry's forehead, but other than that he looked perfectly healthy. His eyes were screwed up tight and his face was red from crying, his chubby little arms and legs waved about in the air or pummeled the massive man that cradled him. Even the bleeding had nearly exhausted itself, and Sirius gave a low moan of relief at the sight of the baby, whole and safe in Hagrid's massive arms.

"He's alright," he murmured, sagging against the doorway. "He's really alright."

"Sirius!" Hagrid's head jerked toward him, and great tear tracks were easily visible on his wide face. More tears shimmered in his eyes as he rocked Harry, his whole body shaking with grief. "I can't believe it, I just can't believe it. James an, an…an Lily…gone! Murdered in their own home!"

Sirius closed his eyes, his own shocked grief threatening to overwhelm him. His arms were shaking as he lifted them to take the baby.

"Hagrid…Harry is my…I should take him. He's my godson." Was that his voice? There was a tremor in it he hardly recognized. "James and Lily trusted me to take care of him in case…"

He looked down and saw Lily's pale arm extending out from a pile of the rubble, her glorious red hair dulled by all the dust and debris. Suddenly there were tears on his face. "Please, Hagrid. I've got to get him to safety."

"I dunno, Sirius." Hagrid was frowning. "Dumbledore gave me strict instructions. I'm to take him out of here and bring him to his aunt's."

"His aunt…You can't mean the _Dursleys?_ " Lily had told him plenty of stories about her sister, about Harry's overindulged cousin and hard-hearted uncle. She had always been especially clear about how they hated anything remotely connected to magic. The idea of Harry going to live with people such as them was outrageous.

Hagrid was nodding his shaggy head. "Right from here to there, no stops on the way. He said he'd meet me there, make sure that the family understood their duties."

"No," Sirius growled. The tremor in his voice was gone now, in its place was grit. Anger— _rage_ —was starting to make itself felt through the shock of the evening.

"Dumbledore won't let no harm come to him, Sirius—"

"Damn Dumbledore!" The outburst startled both men, and Harry began to cry again. "I'm not giving him over to those muggles. Lily _never_ would have allowed that to happen, not after the way they treated James. They meant him to come to _me._ "

Hagrid hesitated, glancing down at the squalling bundle in his arms. Sirius could see the cogs turning in the gamekeeper's mind. No one knew better how James and Sirius had been attached at the hip, and from the very beginning Sirius had been the proudest godfather that had ever been. But this muggle family, they were blood, and Dumbledore _had_ been clear.

He looked back at Sirius, then over to Lily. She was lying almost peacefully among the blasted remains of the nursery. She and James had trusted their son's life and happiness to their best friend. He knew that Sirius would do his best for the babe, would raise him with love when the muggles were strangers, ignorant of wizarding ways… How could he ignore the Potter's final wishes, especially when it came to their son? No matter how much he trusted Dumbledore, it seemed wrong.

"Tell him I attacked you…you can take my motorbike, tell him I stunned you and ran away with Harry. He can't blame you then."

Hagrid gave an indignant snort. "It'd take a lot more than a stunnin' spell to get me, Sirius Black," he said, but to Sirius' great relief, he passed over the baby. He curled his arms around his godson, his heart turning over painfully as Harry quieted the instant he was pressed against his chest. This seemed to decide Hagrid once and for all.

"I reckon you're more his family than his muggle kin. I'll explain to Dumbledore. I can't give you much of a head start, mind, and he'll probably come and find you—"

"Thank you, Hagrid. Thank you!" Sirius reached out and gripped Hagrid's hand. "You made the right choice, I swear it to you."

"If I haven't, it'll be me you'll have to answer to." Hagrid shook a great, thick finger in the younger man's face. "We're fast friends, me an' that boy, and if you're not treating him right…"

He didn't finish the threat, but Sirius didn't need him to. "Fair enough," he agreed. He handed over the keys to his motorbike and then, pausing only to wrap Harry warmly against the cool evening air, he disappeared into the night. Hagrid stood in the ruins of the Potter house and watched him go, wondering if he'd made a mistake. He'd made plenty of those in his life, but this didn't feel like one. At last he turned and headed downstairs, his heart heavy at the thought of leaving Lily and James like this, but it was best not to put off his reckoning with Dumbledore a moment longer.

The motorbike roared to life and Hagrid soared away, letting the wind wash his face clean of tears.

- **BH** -

Hours passed before Dumbledore tracked the pair of them down, perhaps because like so many others, he was searching for whatever remained of Lord Voldemort. After a long, cold flight north on his broom and a hurried stop to gather supplies for the child, Sirius had chosen to take refuge in Hogsmeade. He chose the wizarding village in order to protect Harry from his less than savory relations. After all, Bellatrix Lestrange was still out there, already frantic in the search for her vanquished master. Sirius hoped the proximity to Hogwarts, as well as Albus and his brother, would be protection enough. And perhaps, since no one had seen or heard from Voldemort since his last encounter with the Potters, he was right.

Dumbledore, however, wasn't prepared to take it on chance.

The old wizard stepped into the hallway of the Hog's Head Inn, but before he was halfway to Sirius Black's room he could hear it: a vicious growl of warning, issuing from the throat of what must have been a very large dog indeed. It confirmed something that previously Dumbledore had only guessed, and of course that set into motion musing on a host of other theories…but time for that later.

He knocked on the door. The growling ceased and a moment later the door was opened. Through a narrow crack, the two men observed each other. It was apparent that Sirius was wearing little more than a hastily grabbed pair of pants, while Dumbledore looked sanguine in his everyday blue robes and hat.

"I suppose you'd like to come in," Sirius said. He was not especially welcoming, but he was already opening the door wide enough to permit his guest entry as Dumbledore nodded. The older wizard glanced around the room. Harry was awake and waving his arms at a mobile. Sirius had not bothered to install it properly, instead allowing it to rotate in the air above the bassinet on its own. There was a pile of baby things in the corner: diapers and formula, new bottles and clothes, anything an infant might need for a couple of days. Though gathered in a whirlwind and badly organized, it was obvious that Harry was being well cared for in the wake of his family's tragedy.

He turned his eyes to the half-dressed young man in the room. He still looked like the dog Dumbledore now knew he sometimes was, with his wild hair and those dark, flashing eyes. Wary and restless, he was pacing off to the side while he waited for Dumbledore to speak.

"You've acted in a very rash manner, Sirius," Dumbledore said. He had waved the mobile away and stood over the baby, gazing down at the gash on Harry's head. It had scabbed over, but the boy would no doubt carry the scar for the rest of his life. Yet another burden…he sighed.

"Hagrid said you beat him to the house and then fled on foot."

Sirius remained silent. Better to find out how much Dumbledore knew than to try and play him like a fool.

"I suspect you arrived at nearly the same time. I'm not sure how you convinced Hagrid to hand the child over. He has never directly disobeyed me before."

"Sir, I'm Harry's godfather. James and Lily always intended for me to raise him if the worst happened, blood or no blood. Those Durselys, do you have any idea what they're like?" Sirius' voice was gaining volume as the anger rose again. "They _hated_ Lily and they loathed James. Harry would never be welcome there and he'd never know anything about his real family. I can't stand by and let you hand him over, knowing what sort of life he'd have there."

Dumbledore's expression was pained. "It's a bit more complicated than that, Sirius. You see, there's only one way that the Potters could have been attacked in their own home, and I'm afraid that means their secret keeper must have betrayed them."

As he said this, he seemed to swell, to grow taller and taller as the room shrank around him. It was almost as if he was pulling the space toward him with the gravity of his new mass. Sirius' perception bent, his eyes telling him things that ought not to be true, and he shook his head to try and maintain his balance. Dumbledore believed—as no doubt everyone believed—that _he_ had been the Potters' secret keeper. He had come peacefully to ensure that Harry was safe and whole, but now—

Both wizards had their wands out, but it was clear who the victor would be should a fight break out. There was only one way to avoid what was coming: Dumbledore must know the truth.

"It was Peter!" Sirius' teeth were grit with the effort not to succumb to the vertigo he was feeling. "I…I convinced James to…"

His throat worked against a huge knot, and suddenly the vertigo was giving way to another wave of grief. It crashed over him as he remembered that conversation with James, how he had pointed out that everyone would think that it was he, Sirius, that held the key to the Potters' safety so of course they should choose Wormtail. No one would suspect Wormtail.

He'd killed his best friend, killed Lily, had nearly killed his own godson. The weight of it all threatened to kill him in return, but he resisted for two reasons: Peter Pettigrew still lived, and so did Harry. He had to kill one and nurture the other. Only when those tasks were over could he find any peace.

"Peter Pettigrew? Peter was the secret keeper?" Dumbledore's eyes were glaciers as he stared at Sirius. "But James trusted _you_ above all others."

"I was too obvious of a choice. I told James that the Death Eaters would come after me, they'd torture me until they had what they needed. I didn't want to fail him, not when the lives of his whole family were on the line. I convinced him to choose Peter instead. The Death Eaters would still come for me, but they could use as much torture as they wanted: I couldn't reveal a secret I'd never had." Sirius covered his face with his hand. "Instead I handed them right to Voldemort."

The physics of the room were sorting themselves out and the awful sensation of vertigo was fading. The guilt, however, remained.

"I went to see Peter tonight, to see how he was holding up. When I got there, he was gone. That's when I started to worry. And then I got to Godrick's Hollow and…I knew. I knew what he'd done. I wanted to go after him right then, but I had to see if…if anyone had…and of course Harry _had_ survived. So I took him from Hagrid and we came here. Only Voldemort would be bold enough to come right to your doorstep. The other Death Eaters are too afraid of you. I thought we might be safe here until I could figure out something more permanent."

Dumbledore's wand, which had appeared in an eye blink, now disappeared just as quickly. He stared hard at Sirius, his gaze penetrating deep into the other wizard as he strove to determine the truth of his words. Sirius' shoulders fell as he allowed himself to be examined. He was completely at fault. The events that had occurred this night had occurred because of him, and there could be no running away from a facts as horrible as those. All he could do now was protect Harry to the best of his ability.

It was clear the older wizard had more questions, but just as he opened his mouth to ask them, a silvery bird appeared outside of the lone window. Dumbledore hastened to open it and the patronus (a swallow with a beautiful tail) landed on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. Whatever news it carried could not have been good. The frown on Dumbledore's face deepened and a sense of urgency filled the room even before the patronus had finished delivering its message and disappeared.

"It seems this night's tragic work is not over. Stay here." Dumbledore's words lashed out like a whip. This was a command, not that Sirius had anywhere else to go even if it hadn't been. "Is there anything else about Peter I should know?"

Dark eyes met his. There was an internal struggle, and then a quiet admission. "Peter's an animagus. A fat grey rat."

Dumbledore nodded and disappeared. Sirius threw himself down on the bed and looked over at Harry's bassinet. A flick of his wand had the mobile floating back over to spin above the infant.

"It's you and me now," he said to the baby. "Just you and me."

Somehow, after everything he'd been through this horrible night, he managed to sleep. It would be many years, however, before the nightmares stopped.

 **-BH-**

How they made it through that first week, Sirius would never be able to recall. There had been a lot of crying (from Harry) and a lot of cursing (from Sirius), on top of dirty nappies and midnight feedings. The little room that they were living in was a minor disaster area, despite attempts to clean it magically. On top of that, between the baby's colic and as near constant vigilance as he could manage, Sirius had barely slept.

This was the chaos into which Remus Lupin stepped at the end of the week, bearing mixed tidings of the final days of the war.

"Merlin's beard, Sirius." The second he'd crossed the threshold into the room, Remus' hand shot up to pinch his nose shut. His friend was doing his best to change Harry's nappy, and both man and babe had been soiled further in the attempt. "What are you feeding the poor boy?"

"Don't just stand there, Moony. Pass me those wipes," Sirius growled. As Remus did so, he began muttering under his breath. "A baby, Remus. Me, looking after a baby. What was I thinking?"

Remus gave his friend's shoulder a comforting pat before looking down at Harry. The baby seemed to find the whole situation amusing and was giggling at Sirius' obvious distress. His green eyes crinkled in precisely the same way Lily's had, and Remus couldn't help but smile back even as a bolt of pain shot through him. He had not been ready for so many of his friends to become memories. No one ever was, even during times of war.

"The Lestranges kidnapped the Longbottoms the same night that Voldemort disappeared. They're still at large but we think we're closing in on them. There's no way to know if the Longbottoms are still…" He swallowed. "We hope for the best, of course. They're some of the best we have, so if anyone might have survived…"

Sirius' only response was a low rumble. Remus knew his family ties caused him more than his fair share of pain and guilt. He hurried on with the rest of the news.

"Peter has also disappeared, despite Dumbledore's efforts to track him. With Voldemort gone, he'll have to hide from both sides now: the Death Eaters think he tricked their master into destroying himself, and of course we know he betrayed the Potters. If he ever shows his face again…well, I'm sure he won't."

"And is he gone? The Dark Lord?" Sirius asked as he finished wrapping Harry into a fresh nappy. He was finding it hard to celebrate the end of Voldemort's reign with Peter still alive and on the run. "Truly gone?"

"The simple answer is, yes. By all appearances, Harry has defeated the Dark Lord and ushered in peace." Remus smiled down at the baby, though his eyes were still sad.

"And the long answer?"

"Dumbledore doubts he's been completely destroyed. He does seem confident that the Dark Lord's power has been irretrievably shattered, however, and while he intends to keep searching for whatever remains, it seems like he is ready to press forward with administrating peace."

"What of the Death Eaters?"

"Many have turned themselves in, claiming to have been controlled by the Dark Lord against their will. The Malfoys are one such family. Most of the others are being rounded up by the Order of the Phoenix or the Aurors. The Ministry has already begun their criminal trials. There are a couple, like the Lestranges, that remain at large, but it's only a matter of time." Remus shrugged. "This is all just the mopping up. By the time Harry is old enough to talk, things will have gone back to normal."

Sirius grunted. "What's normal? I don't even remember."

His friend's answering chuckle was melancholy. "Nor I, Padfoot. Nor I."

They sat for a while, discussing the end of the war. Discussing Lily and James, when they could manage it. They took turns playing with Harry until he got fussy, and recognizing the signs of a tired infant, Sirius lowered him back into his bassinet.

"I'll need your help with him, Remus. I'm way out of my depth here."

"And you shall have it." Remus clapped his old friend on the shoulder. "I promise, whatever I can do to help and protect Harry, I will. In fact, I already know how to start."

"Do you?" Sirius asked, surprised.

Remus' answering smile was mischievous. "Oh yes. I imagine Molly Weasley will be here within the hour," he replied, relishing in Sirius' little groan of despair. "If anyone can get this room straightened up, it's her."

"I'll never hear the end of it!"

"Probably not," Remus agreed cheerfully. "But it will give you a chance to get to your Gringotts vault and buy more things for Harry. He's going to grow quickly."

"I suppose you're right." Sirius's tone was grudging. "Send word when Bellatrix and her good-for-nothing husband are captured, will you?"

"You'll be the first to know." Remus headed to the door and turned to salute his friend. "Good luck with Harry. I'll see you soon."

He disappeared in a whirl of robes, and Sirius glanced at his godson. "Right, I better try to tidy up before Molly gets here, or she'll have me neutered."

Harry's only response was a massive yawn, and as he drifted to sleep, his godfather pushed up his sleeves and set about cleaning their modest living quarters.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I'm afraid I didn't get as far into the story as I hoped I would. As a result, a lot of this chapter is kind of building the Black House universe. That said, there are some parts of this chapter that I really loved and I hope you'll enjoy it as well!

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 **Chapter Two  
**

 _Ten Years Later_

It was Harry Potter's eleventh birthday and he was waiting, rather impatiently, for the post owl to appear. He didn't usually spend his birthday waiting for the post owl, but this year was different. This year, the bird would be carrying a letter for him, perhaps one of the most important letters he'd ever receive: his acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He sat at the table in 12 Grimmauld Place and tried to keep his legs from kicking as he observed the objects in front of him to take his mind off of the lateness of the mail. It wasn't much of a distraction.

"Sirius," he called as he examined a particularly lonely cup of tea, "how long has this mug been sitting out?"

"Eh?" His godfather's voice was muffled. It drifted to him from the rear of the house, where he had been cloistered for about ten minutes. What was he doing back there?

"This tea! It's gone all…uh…I think it's actually gone chunky," Harry replied. He wrinkled his nose as he tipped the cup toward him. A fine film had settled over the top, like cooled gravy, and when agitated there were indeed small chunks that spun around in the forgotten beverage. It had to be at least a day old, maybe two.

"Ah." There was a pause. "Best tip it then. And don't go mentioning it to Molly—she has enough to say about this little bachelor's arrangement we have as it is!"

Harry hid a smile. Molly Weasley was a frequent visitor to Grimmauld Place and her visits usually culminated in a bit of a lecture for his godfather. Harry had memories from a very young age of Molly fussing around the house, clucking at the state of it as she set about cleaning. The house elf Kreacher was always greatly offended, but Harry tried to mollify him with sweets whenever he could. Sirius didn't like Kreacher much but Harry had always felt a little sad for him. He didn't know what it was like to feel unwanted, and he never wanted to find out. Thus he was always generous with the elf even if it seemed his efforts weren't overly appreciated.

He took the tea to the sink and dumped it in. Thinking about Molly always led him to thinking about his best friend Ron. Ron had gotten his Hogwarts letter ages ago as he was a few months older than Harry, but he and his family were waiting to go shopping for school supplies until Sirius and Harry could come with them to Diagon Alley.

"What are you doing back there?" Harry called to his godfather.

"Nothing, nothing!" Whatever 'nothing' was, it was making a lot of noise; Harry could hear muffled thumps and a couple of curse words from Sirius. He'd almost decided to investigate when Sirius emerged from one of the back rooms, brushing off his shirt. He shot his godson a wink and glanced toward the window.

"That letter should be here any minute," he said in a tone that implied he knew something Harry didn't. The boy's sense of anticipation burned a little brighter as they both watched for any hint of movement outside. Sure enough, a few moments later a small, dark figure appeared in the sky. It grew larger and larger as it approached the window, and Harry could soon see that this was not one of the barn or brown owls that usually delivered their magical mail. As the large bird soared into the open window, Harry realized that this was a snowy owl, proud and beautiful with its white and black plumage and keen yellow eyes.

"Wow…" he murmured, stroking the feathers at the owl's chest before he removed the letter from the proffered leg.

"Do you like her?" Sirius asked.

"Like her?" Harry turned wide eyes to him, and his godfather offered him a grin. "Do you mean—?"

"She's yours. That's what I was doing back there, tying your Hogwarts letter to your new owl. The school bird wasn't too happy about it—" Sirius rubbed at his ear, which Harry now noticed was a little red from being nipped—"so it took a little longer than I anticipated."

"Thank you!" Harry was rushing to throw his arms around the older wizard, and Sirius ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Don't thank me: this is Hagrid's gift to you. He'll be here tonight for your birthday party, so you can thank him then."

He beamed as Harry introduced himself to the snowy owl. With an easy wave of his wand, he summoned a cage for the newly-christened Hedwig and watched indulgently as his godson took both up to his room. Eleven already…where had the years gone? Somehow or another, he'd managed to raise Harry into a healthy young man. He'd had plenty of help, thank Merlin, and now Harry was on the verge of leaving Grimmauld Place for his first term at Hogwarts. The pride was tempered only by the wish that James and Lily could have been there as well, preparing their son for his first year at the magical school.

Before the nostalgia got too much the better of him, Sirius washed the dishes that had piled up in the sink and called down Kreacher to help prepare the birthday dinner. There was no love lost between master and elf, but Kreacher had developed a bit of a soft spot for Harry and as he was the superior cook, it wasn't long before Sirius had been shooed out of the kitchen.

He was still hovering around the edges when a quiet knock came. Over the years, the small circle of friends that came to visit had all learned not to knock too loudly lest the disturb the portrait of Sirius' mother, Walburga Black. Sirius was still searching for ways to remove it from the wall. It remained silent but he still shot it a dark look as he walked by on his way to answer the door. Remus Lupin was on the stoop with a brightly wrapped package for Harry tucked under his arm.

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd turn up." Sirius drew his friend into a hug. Remus was entirely too thin and there were bags under his eyes, but his answering smile was warm.

"I was going to wait until dinner, but…" He shrugged. "I hope you don't mind that I came a bit early."

"Not at all. Harry's just run upstairs, but he should be down in a few minutes. His Hogwarts letter has just arrived."

They both enjoyed a certain sense of paternal pride at these words. Though Remus stayed away for a few days when the moon was nearing its fullest every month, he had helped Sirius more than anyone else as Harry grew up. Molly had been a huge help as well, but her visits were less frequent as she had a house full of her own children to see to. Minerva McGonagall had visited every so often and had offered Sirius an exceptional list of tutors when the time came for Harry to begin his education. Even Dumbledore stopped in occasionally, although he and Sirius had quietly disagreed about where Harry should be raised for a long time. Though the headmaster had explained to him about the blood-magic that protected the boy, Sirius refused to turn over Harry long enough for the Dursley's house on Privet Lane to be considered home.

" _We're_ his protection," he had argued one evening when Dumbledore had arrived to make his case yet again. "You and me, Remus and the Weasleys, even Hagrid and Minerva. This house is nearly as secure as Hogwarts itself with all the protection spells we've put on it. And even if he still exists, the Dark Lord is short on allies these days."

The older wizard had retreated with a thoughtful frown on his face but Harry remained in Sirius' care. The matter had remained closed since that meeting, and though Dumbledore did step out of the fireplace now and then, this was a rare occurrence.

Remus set down Harry's present and Sirius dragged himself out of his thoughts. His friend looked tired, but around this time of the month he was always tired. The full moon had been only a few days ago, after all. Sirius wished he could transform and run with Remus as they used to, but though the other took Wolfsbane he still decided it was too dangerous to be anywhere near Harry in the event that he changed. He never revealed where he traveled to, but there was no doubt in Sirius' mind that it would be somewhere secluded and wild.

"You look well," Remus said to him. There was a small smile on his lips. "It will be lonely here while Harry's away at Hogwarts."

Sirius frowned. He still hadn't made a final decision about whether he'd stay in Grimmauld Place or not. He'd never been particularly fond of his family home, but the unhappy memories of his childhood had been somewhat tempered by the years he'd spent here raising Harry. While he'd paced and fretted and worried over every tiny cough from his infant godson, Remus had been the one to soothe them both. Both men had enjoyed introducing Harry to Quidditch, seeing in him the echoes of his father's greatness with a broom. Both had helped him learn to read and write, and Remus had received some of Harry's first correspondence, the childish letters painstakingly scrawled out in messages asking when he'd be coming back to Grimmauld Place.

Then there was the fact that this was Harry's home, the place where he'd grown up. It hadn't been Sirius' first choice, but there were ancient wards on the place that had been easily reinforced with extra protection from the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore himself.

"I'll just have to see what sort of mischief I can cook up for myself," he said at last. "And if you stop coming by for visits, Moony, I'll know that you like Harry better than me."

The corner of Remus' lips quirked. "That certainly wouldn't do," he replied, ignoring the way his heart had thumped a little harder at the words. From anyone else, that remark would have been almost flirtatious…but as far as he knew there had been only one great love in Sirius Black's life, and it hadn't been him. His heart had been lost a long time ago to James Potter, and Remus had watched as his friend had pinned after him quietly even as James had gone on to marry Lily Evans.

So much the worse for the werewolf. He had loved Sirius for nearly half his life, though he had never told a soul. After James had died, Sirius had thrown himself into being a father to Harry, and—being sure to guard his heart—Remus had done what he could to help, noting all the while that fatherhood suited his old friend more than he'd ever expected it to.

Before they could further discuss how Sirius might spend his time while his godson was at Hogwarts, Harry himself raced back down the stairs, making a beeline for Remus. He'd barely had time to get to his feet before the eleven-year-old had barreled into him, gripping him in a tight hug.

"You're here!"

"Eleven is a special year," Remus replied with a smile, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately. "Where else would I be?"

"I'm glad, I was really hoping you'd be back in time. Did Sirius tell you? Hagrid got me an owl!"

"He hadn't mentioned it yet." Remus met Sirius' gaze over the boy's head, his relief palpable. Considering all of the other creatures Hagrid might have sent along as a gift for Harry, an owl was a pleasant surprise. "You'll find having an owl very useful when you get school."

Harry nodded, insisting that Remus come see Hedwig, and the wizard allowed himself to be led upstairs. The boy's cheerfulness was contagious, and not for the first time Remus felt deeply glad that Sirius hadn't let him go to the Dursleys.

* * *

As evening fell, other guests began to arrive to help Harry celebrate his birthday. Hagrid had lumbered in with a rather squished cake under his arm, and after he'd deposited it with an indignant Kreacher, he'd wrapped Harry in a tight hug. The Hogwarts groundskeeper had been a frequent visitor over the years. He'd been fiercely protective of Harry from the very beginning, and that bond had only deepened as Harry had grown. Harry kept babbling thank yous to Hagrid over and over, trying to properly express how much he already loved Hedwig, and Hagrid's answering smile was wide and warm.

"This is yer Hogwarts year, Harry. Had ter get you something special, eh?"

As Harry began peppering the half-giant with questions about his new school, more visitors arrived. From the amount of voices coming from the fireplace, it was clear that the Weasleys were arriving. Bill and Charlie weren't able to come as both worked abroad, but the rest of the family were all taking turns climbing out of the green flames that had burst to life on their own.

Sirius shook hands with Arthur and Percy as the twins climbed out and dusted themselves off, shortly followed by Ron and then Molly and Ginny, each carrying a small stack of presents.

"Ron!" Harry's shout of joy met with the red-haired family as he ran over to hug his best friend tightly.

"Mate! Happy birthday!"

"Come meet Hedwig! Hagrid got her for me—she's a snowy owl." The two boys raced back upstairs while the rest of the Weasleys greeted Remus and Hagrid.

Minerva McGonagall and Dumbledore didn't come, though both sent owls wishing Harry many happy returns. It probably wouldn't have been appropriate for Harry's headmaster and one of his professors to come to the party, and Minerva was especially aware of how it could be construed as favoritism as she had never visited any of her other students on their birthdays.

With the birthday party assembled and the food laid out on the table, everyone gathered together to eat. They toasted Harry's health with raised glasses of pumpkin juice and stuffed themselves to the bursting with Kreacher's cooking. As they ate, Harry glanced around the table at each of the people there. They'd all been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. He and Ron had always been especially close as they were the same age, but Ginny hadn't come along too far behind and they'd grown close as they went back and forth from Grimmauld Place to the Weasley's house at the Burrow. Percy had been something of a stern babysitter over the years, but he'd also helped Ron, Harry and Ginny with their maths over the years. Fred and George had been an endless source of mischief and entertainment for as long as he could remember, and Harry was one of the few people outside of the family who could tell them apart (usually).

Molly and Arthur were like another set of parents, and though they had their hands full with their own brood, they'd always been generous and welcoming to Harry. Hagrid of course was his staunch protector and biggest fan, everyone knew that, and there was a bond of friendship between the two that Harry knew could never be broken. Even Bill and Charlie, though they were absent from the table now, had been a part of Harry's upbringing, and they still periodically sent owls with interesting tidbits from their work. From Bill he had several rubbings of hieroglyphics from ancient Egyptian mages and wizards, plus the exotic candies that the witches and wizards from Egypt enjoyed. From Charlie he had stories of the dragons he was breeding, and scales from the several different species he worked with.

These people were his family, though they didn't share any blood. He'd learned very young that blood ties weren't, perhaps, as important as they were often lauded to be. He'd been sheltered here in the Black House, surrounded by this family of massively talented witches and wizards, and he couldn't remember ever feeling as though he were unwanted or unloved. It made him almost nervous to start school, to be separated from the people that had always been with him.

But of course, that was silly. He wouldn't be separated from all of them. Fred and George were already attending Hogwarts, Hagrid worked there, and he and Ron would spend all seven years together. Ginny would be following them to school in another year. He gave a small, grateful sigh at his good fortune in having all these people with him. For an orphan, he had been extraordinarily lucky, and he and Sirius shared a smile over their plates.

* * *

Though most of the Weasleys returned to the Burrow after dinner and cake, Ron stayed over. Both boys were camped out in Harry's room, the bed forgotten in favor of sleeping bags on the floor. The window was open and Hedwig had soared out into the night to hunt, probably more for pleasure than out of hunger as Harry had fed her before his birthday dinner. Around them were the gifts he'd received: from Ron, seeker's gloves with the emblem of the Chudley Cannons emblazoned on the back. Arthur and Molly had given him a kit for owl care, Hagrid having told them in advance what he'd intended to give Harry. They'd also given him gifts from Charlie and Bill: from Charlie, a to-scale model of a Swedish Short-Snout egg which had the same soft luminescence as a pearl; from Bill a translation of an Ancient Egyptian hex which caused the targeted witch or wizard to grow scarab wings.

Percy had given him a used but very well cared for copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ , and Fred and George had given him a bunch of sweets and some merchandise from Zonko's Joke Shop. Ginny had given him a toy broom which zoomed around his room and paused occasionally to hover over the boys as they lay on the floor speaking quietly.

From Lupin there had been a beautifully illustrated book detailing defensive spells and counter-curses. The drawings moved, first in real speed and then in slow motion to better illustrate the proper use of the spell on the page. Finally, from Sirius, there was an old snitch. He'd kept it with him since he'd unwrapped it, his fingers curled around its golden body as if in some way it could reveal its memories to him if he held on hard enough. Sirius had told him it was the first one James had ever caught, during his first ever school Quidditch match as seeker. For years after James had fiddled with it, tossing it and catching it or rolling it around on his desk when he was deep in thought. Harry knew the instant he'd heard those words that he'd never allow himself to be parted with it. Of all his gifts, this was his favorite.

"Are you nervous about school?" Ron asked him, watching the toy broom zip back and forth near the ceiling. Harry rolled his father's snitch between his palms and nodded.

"A bit. Sirius has always been strict about the no-magic rule. I wonder if there are others starting that have had more practice. I hope I'm not rubbish."

Ron snorted. "Not likely."

"Still…I feel like I had better do well. Everyone knows who I am. If I'm not very good at magic, well…just imagine."

Ron frowned. "Yeah, suppose there is a bit of pressure on you."

"I know what they say about me: that I'm the one that defeated the Dark Lord. But I don't even remember. I was just lying there, it's not as though I did anything special." Harry was squeezing the snitch hard now, hard enough to make his fingers hurt.

"Harry, c'mon. Don't worry. There will be plenty of kids starting that didn't even know they were wizards or witches in the first place. It won't be as bad as you think."

Harry nodded. Ron was right: he even had a few spells memorized already, although without a wand it was hard to know if he would be able to perform them correctly. He'd asked Sirius if he could practice with his wand, but his godfather had only acquiesced on a couple of occasions, and he had only tried very basic spells. He felt woefully unprepared for a magical education, but at least he knew he was magical. He tried to imagine what it would have been like to find out you were a witch or wizard when a Hogwarts professor arrived to explain it all. It was probably very hard to believe if you didn't even know magic existed in the first place.

"What house do you think you'll be in?" Ron asked him, and Harry finally relaxed his grip on the snitch and stretched his sore fingers.

"I don't know." He tried to remember what he knew about the Hogwarts Houses, but it wasn't much. Ravenclaw didn't seem likely; he certainly didn't feel clever enough to end up there. He wanted, or more accurately perhaps _craved_ , to do well, but he wasn't sure if he was brave or bold. If he was honest with himself, he expected to be sorted into Hufflepuff. It was, he knew, a friendly and down to earth House which usually performed well across the board.

"I wonder how they decide. I mean, the rest of my family are Gryffindors, but I don't know. I wonder if you have to do something really brave, like perform some sort of task or test or something. I don't think I'd make a very good Ravenclaw, either…"

"I dunno, if it's a game of Wizarding chess, you're a shoe-in," Harry replied, and Ron grinned at him gratefully. He sometimes felt completely outshined by his older brothers, all of whom had stood out in some fashion or another. He didn't give himself enough credit, but no matter how many times Harry pointed this out to him, he never seemed to really believe it.

"None of your brothers have told you how the sorting works?"

Ron scoffed. "No way. They love it when they know stuff I don't. They get to watch me squirm. Suppose I'll enjoy it too, when it's me keeping the secret from Ginny."

Harry shook his head with a smile. If it was really something hard or painful, he'd tell her if Ron wouldn't. That way at least one of them would be prepared.

"You and Sirius are coming with us to Diagon Alley this weekend, yeah?" Ron asked with a yawn.

"Absolutely," Harry agreed, glad to get his mind off of the sorting. "We're going to meet you at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Excellent. Listen, mate, I'm about to fall asleep..."

"Me too. See you in the morning." Harry adjusted himself so he was deeper in his sleeping bag and closed his eyes.

"Night," they said in unison, and a few moments later they were both asleep.

* * *

 **A/N:** I was really torn about whether or not to write some earlier stuff, like Sirius and Remus taking care of a younger Harry. I decided not to because I really wanted to get to a point where I could introduce other characters like Hermoine and Draco, _BUT _ I probably WILL do a series of one-shots set in the BH universe where Remus and Sirius care for baby Harry just because I have a few very strong ideas and scenes floating around in my head.

Next chapter should be up a little quicker as well!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** This chapter isn't SUPER different than canon, but it did allow me to introduce Draco Malfoy to the story. It won't be long before we move away from the books, I just have to get a little groundwork done first.

Next chapter we'll meet Hermoine! That should be up by Friday.

Also, you can find me on Tumblr. I'm **xxsummersirenxx** , and my ask box is open there so you can message me there (anon is on too if you prefer).

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

After a brief meetup in the Leaky Cauldron—and after being recognized and much hand-shaking with awestruck witches and wizards on Harry's part—he, Sirius and the Weasleys stepped into Diagon Alley. Harry had been one a couple of very memorable occasions before, but every time he walked this winding street it was like the first time all over again. Anticipation swelled in him as he caught a glimpse of Ollivander's. He was going to get his very own magic wand at last.

"Are we going to Gringott's first?" he asked Sirius. His godfather, who was busy reading through the list of school supplies that had come with the letter, glanced down at him and shook his head.

"No need," he replied. At Harry's scowl, he only grinned and ruffled the boy's hair. "What kind of godfather would I be if I made you buy your own school supplies?"

When Harry had discovered that he had a vault full of gold concealed far beneath London, he'd insisted that Sirius take it. They'd had multiple discussions about it, but Sirius had never accepted. Even now, with a list full of school supplies, he wouldn't think of touching Harry's inheritance. The boy knew he should be grateful, but he couldn't help feeling a touch of guilt when he thought about it.

"Don't worry, Harry." Sirius leaned down, his voice a low rumble in Harry's ear. "I've got plenty of gold. The Ministry pays well."

 _The Ministry?_ Harry shot him a look, but Sirius only winked at him. This was a discussion they'd have later, it seemed. For now, there were plenty of places they needed to go in order to obtain the items on his list, and it was clear that the younger Weasleys were ready to get started. In fact, Fred and George were nearly to the Apothecary shop already, discussing ingredients that Harry wasn't sure were for class. After a quick word with Sirius, Molly and Arthur followed the twins to ensure they didn't buy anything too exotic.

Ron and Ginny stepped up to his side. "Books first, eh? Get the boring part out of the way?" Ron suggested. Ginny elbowed him in the ribs.

"Books are _not_ boring, Ron," she told her brother with and edge of steel in her voice. Harry hid a smirk. He wasn't sure how she'd take it if he told her, but Ginny could sound remarkably like her mother when she chose to.

"Books first," he agreed, deliberately not taking a side with either sibling. Together, the three of them headed toward Flourish and Blotts with Sirius trailing behind them. Percy split away from the group to Madam Malkin's, keen to have her ensure that the prefect's badge he had charmed onto his robes would be secure for the entire year.

As they entered Flourish and Blotts, Harry was forced to agree with Ginny: these books were anything but boring. Grimmauld Place had a large library, but most of the tomes there exuded an oppressive air and he'd been too wary to read them. Here, however, there were books of every shape and size, with titles that frightened, intrigued and excited. He could hardly keep his eyes in his head as he, Ginny and Ron wandered through the aisles.

"I wish I was going to Hogwarts this year too," Ginny said, watching as Harry and Ron collected a small pile of schoolbooks. Her eyes were wistful as she scanned the titles in Ron's pile, her fingers brushing over the worn covers. Harry and Ron had both selected their school books from the used section, and though Ron's cheeks had glowed pink, Harry wasn't embarrassed or bothered to use books that had passed through the hands of former students. In fact, the idea was kind of nice, like sharing a bit of Hogwarts' history with other excited first years.

After they'd purchased their books, Sirius took them to get cauldrons and then over to the Apothecary (where Molly was arguing with Fred and George about whether or not they needed quite so much dragon liver) where they bought the potions ingredients they'd need. By the time they'd left, Ginny's shoulders had slumped.

"Alright?" Harry asked her.

"I'm fine. It's just that now it'll just be me at home with mum and dad. It was bad enough when it just me and Ron, but…" She sighed. "It's going to be a boring year."

And lonely, no doubt. After sharing a home with six brothers, the Burrow was going to be a little too quiet for her liking this year.

"I'll write to you. I'll make sure Ron does too." He offered her a small smile and she blushed and turned away. "Every week."

"Thanks, Harry," she replied. She didn't look at him again, and they both fell silent as they followed Sirius to Madam Malkin's. Ron cast them a curious look, but Harry gave a small shake of his head and the other didn't ask any questions.

Madam Malkin greeted Ron and Harry with a smile, then ushered them to the back of the shop. There was another boy there already. He was a tall, pale youth with silvery-blonde hair. His chin was tilted up and he appeared to be rather bored as another witch pinned and hemmed the robes he was wearing.

Harry opened his mouth to introduce himself, but stopped when he realized how tense Ron had grown beside him. His best friend was bristling at the sight of the other boy. Harry, whose social circle had been tightly controlled by both Sirius and Dumbledore, was baffled by Ron's response.

" _Malfoy,_ " he growled.

The boy glanced over and then his eyes narrowed. They were a stormy grey, cold as a slab of slate as he took in the redhead at Harry's side.

"Weasley." He let his gaze slip away, this bored young aristocrat. It was clear he didn't give a fig about Ron's apparent hatred of him. Harry looked back and forth between them, wishing someone would explain just what the problem was.

"And, uh…I'm Harry," he said when it was clear no one was going to speak.

"Bully for you," came the blonde boy's reply. He didn't look over at them again. "Unless you've got a decent racing broom stashed under those Muggle clothes, _Harry_ , I'm certain I don't care."

"You _should_ care," Ron snapped before Harry could stop him. "You should care a _lot_ , because this is _Harry Potter._ "

Now the other boy did look at him, and Harry repressed the urge to give Ron a smack in light of this sudden scrutiny. Better to present a united front for the sake of his friend.

"Harry Potter, is it?" Those grey eyes swept up to Harry's forehead and lingered on the scar half-hidden under his hair. "Savior of the Wizarding world. And _I'm_ Draco Malfoy."

He said this with the air of someone who expected to be recognized, but Harry hadn't the faintest idea why this might be. No one had ever mentioned anyone named Draco to him…although the name Malfoy was vaguely familiar…

And then it hit him. Of course the name Malfoy was familiar to him, he'd seen it on the wall of his own home a thousand times before. This was a member of Sirius' family.

"I think you're related to my godfat—" he started to say, but he was cut off by a sharp nudge from Ron.

"Don't bother. Malfoy's too pure to bother with the likes of us," the redhead snapped.

"Well, I could certainly find a more suitable companion than _you_ , Weasley." Draco smirked as Ron lunged toward him, only to end up pricking himself as the witch doing his fitting struggled to keep him still. "You may be a pure-blood family but you've little enough to show for it. I'd suggest you reconsider your friendship, Potter. He'll only be holding onto the back of your robes, hoping for a little bit of glory. Or for a pile of gold."

The casually cruel way this little speech was delivered had shocked Harry a little bit. He was aware, vaguely, of the prejudices in the Wizarding world. When he'd asked about the great family tree that he'd seen Malfoy's name on, Sirius had given him a brief explanation of the pure-blood lines. He'd always assumed that any member of a pure-blood family would have been welcome into their somewhat exclusive society, but it was clear that despite the Weasleys' blood status, the Malfoys wanted nothing to do with them. The system itself seemed ludicrously archaic, but clearly it was still very important in some circles.

Ron was struggling toward the Malfoy boy again, and damn the pins and needles that had sprouted all along his collar and hemline, but Harry reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You've got it backwards," Harry told the blonde boy. " _I'm_ the one that's lucky to be Ron's friend. And I really don't care what your name is, you're not the sort of wizard I'd want to be friends with if that's your attitude."

Malfoy's smirk had turned into a sneer. "Suit yourself, Potter. I was only trying to help."

"We don't need your help," Ron snarled, and after that a tense silence fell over the room until Malfoy's fitting was done and he left. Ron's fist was balled and shaking with anger as the blonde boy walked out of the back room, but he relaxed as soon as he and Harry were alone again.

"We've run into each other a few times before. His dad works for the Ministry, different department than mine, but whenever there's a Ministry event we always seem to meet. They're all like that, the whole lot of them. They all look like they've just smelled something awful, and they treat everyone except the other pure-blood lot like trash."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Malfoy certainly hadn't made a good first impression, but he sensed something there beneath the scorn. A pressure to succeed, to live up to the expectations of an ancient family? A loneliness? Or perhaps he was just being silly. Whatever else might be going on in Draco Malfoy's life, he'd certainly learned to parrot the bigoted views of his parents, and Harry had no tolerance for that. Especially not when it came to the people he cared about.

By the time they exited the shop with their robes wrapped in neat little boxes Ron had regained his normal sense of good humor. Judging by her smile and the large ice cream she was eating, so had Ginny. Sirius smiled broadly at them as he added Harry's robes to the pile of school supplies they'd already purchased.

"Ginny needed a bit of a pick me up, so I took her to Florean Fortescue's while we were waiting," he explained. "She's as charming as your twin brothers, Ron. She sweet-talked old Florean into an extra scoop in three minutes flat."

Ginny let out a surprisingly devious giggle and Ron rolled his eyes before stealing a finger full of her sundae. While the two siblings began battling over the dessert, Sirius looped an arm over Harry's shoulder and turned him toward Ollivander's.

"I think it's about time you have a wand of your own, don't you?" he asked, knowing how much Harry had been looking forward to this part.

Cheeks flushing with pleasure and excitement, Harry nodded. "More than time," he agreed, and together the four of them walked into the shop.

* * *

The rest of the Weasleys had been waiting in Ollivander's shop, eager to watch Harry and Ron choose their wands. Or rather, to be chosen by their wands. It was just as magical an experience as Harry had imagined it would be, but the euphoria he'd felt as he'd touched _his_ wand the first time had been somewhat tempered by the knowledge that it had shared a core with Voldemort's.

He'd looked to Sirius as Ollivander had divulged that particular bit of information and his godfather's expression had been closed and dark. They'd locked eyes and only then had Sirius relaxed a little, seeing the fear in Harry's eyes.

"The wand's core doesn't matter, Harry," he'd whispered to his godson as they left the shop, "it's the heart of the wand's wielder that matters, and no one has a better heart than you."

Harry had smiled up at him in gratitude, but as they bid their goodbyes to the Weasleys, he felt a small, cold sliver of doubt. He wondered if he'd ever be free of Voldemort's shadow, if he'd ever be worthy of his parent's sacrifice.


End file.
